


Aux Yeux Bleus Ange

by Platinum_Platypus



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera (2004)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Erik is rlly gay and awkward, M/M, Well he is, and shit, erik isn't hella weird, he got a dork in suit does that count, hes just not a killer, hes not a stalker raoul is just rlly pretty, raoul deserves a suitor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-26 13:46:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10787883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Platinum_Platypus/pseuds/Platinum_Platypus
Summary: Alternate Universe where Erik's pretty gay and socially awkward and also not a murderer





	1. Box 5

It's odd, the way his words stutter and fail around the man even though he's never actually talked to him. Or, at least had a real conversation.

Erik isn't used to this, this whole Love thing. It's rather fickle and time-wasting to waste yourself on a person who'll eventually leave or die on you, which is what Erik lived by whenever someone mentioned the idea of a crush or even a slight attraction to that of another human. Plus, his deformity would obviously cause the lover, who he'd probably never get, running away to Timbuktu, horrified by that which is his face. At least, until he sees him.

His name is Raoul Chagny. Vicomte de Chagny, viscount, or the count, Phillipe's, brother. He has hair of silken gold, curly eyelashes that frame his eyes, eyes the color of the brightest skies and deepest of the oceans (it's a huge debate between the two), and skin that's like a porcelain doll. His frame is delicate, though he's obviously rather strong, from what Erik's seen, which isn't really much. 

So, it comes to a huge surprise when someone of Raoul's status pursues him by letter.

"Dear, Monsieur de Phantom,

Hello, it's rather nice to finally start a conversation with you, although it is through paper rather than faces. My name is Raoul Chagny. I suspect you know by now who I am in my entirety. I'll assume you wonder why I've bothered you with this letter though Madam Giry. The point, rather, my question, is to inquiry if you have anything planned Friday after next? Everyone, even Christine, seem to talk about you in such intriguing ways and I simply want to meet you. If you do, please send a letter back to me and meet me at the opera house in your box. If not, simply don't arrive and I shall know your answer.

Your regards,

Raoul Chagny."

How in gods' name could you expect someone, even a heartless bastard such as Erik, to deny such a tempting and kind worded letter? Erik already wanted to pin the damn boy to a wall and have his wicked way with him, this was just enhancing his, as Miss Daaé would say, his infatuation with her childhood companion. It was so so foolish, yet too good to be true, and that's why he was here, awaiting the viscount's arrival before wondering if Raoul would even show up? Or worse? What if he told him, with that sinfully desirable timid voice of his, that he didn't want Erik around? Or only wanted to be friends? Just when the painful thought set in and he was about to leave Box 5 to go work on his new opera, the door creaked open by a panting figure, crouched over with a bottle of aged wine.

"B-bonjour, Monsieur de Phantom," the viscount gasped out, straightening up and smiling brightly. "I'm very glad you agreed to meet with me today, I didn't want to come empty handed, so I hope the wine will be to your liking."

The first thing to come out of Erik's mouth was, "aren't you underage?" He knew immediately that he'd fucked up. That was the first thing to come to his head because Christine and him were a few months age difference of each other and she'd just turned 20 years old. 

Raoul smirked and rose an eyebrow. "You know my age? Ah, dear phantom, I'm 21 as of Monday last week." He said with a teasing drawl. "Now, let's get our cups and ready ourselves for the opera, yes?"

Erik was confused to see why Raoul wasn't concerned that he knew his age, so Erik assumed that Raoul believed Christine or someone had told the Opera Ghost before their first actual meeting.

Erik knew a lot about Raoul. The male had a high tolerance to sour foods, he was more of a realist than a Christian (which merely made Erik swoon over the male more than ever), he went to the navy for a while and came back to find his father dead, he could sing (well enough to where Erik didn't even need to teach him), and could play the violin. 

These facts couldn't be given to the man yet, because he'd think Erik was a stalker, which he wasn't! He was merely......focused on learning about the male in anyway possible. These stupid human emotions must have been what caused him to do what he did.

"Monsieur de Phantom, why are you holding my hand?"

Merde.


	2. Secret Admirer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik is a dork.

"I apologize, it wasn't my intention to do that. I merely didn't realize your hand occupied the rest next to the chair and meant to set my own there-" Erik started as an excuse before Raoul hummed.

"It's fine, no need to worry, oh, look! It's starting!" The excitable viscount stated, immediately sitting up in his seat and forgetting his cup of wine, which left Erik to drink both as he focused more on Raoul's gorgeous face rather than the opera. It wasn't a letdown, as he'd seen that particular opera played by that particular cast around twice a year. Honestly, his managers really needed to buy more music to compose or he'd be forced to do it himself and Don Juan Triumphant was definitely not a thing he'd want for Raoul to hear. It was literal hell in its entirety.

Erik didn't realize how much he zoned out until he noticed the blonde's lips moving and his eyebrow raised and the word, "think."

Believing the other asked him what he thought of the production, he shrugged. "Mediocre, at best. Carlotta is a pain to my ears." Which caused Raoul to snort, shaking his head.

"You have no filter, do you?"

"Is that bad?"

The Vicomte de Chagny paused before shrugging. "No, I rather like it. Oh, look at the time!" He exclaimed, glancing down at his pocket watch. "I really must be going," he called as he ran out. "Take the wine, if you'd like!"

Erik sighed. Feelings were rather peculiar.

<3

 

Erik pondered his thoughts as to why he was currently sitting in his gondola, the wine still unfinished as evening stretched on to dawn. Was this what Christine referred to as being lovesick? Erik felt both ill and infatuated, so obviously that's what that meant? Or was it the moment in which someone pines after a person they long so desperately for that they row out into the middle of an underground lake just so they have time to think? Or was that just Erik? Either way, it was unnerving to say the least. Time and time again his thoughts were plagued with happy blue eyes (the shade of blue still undecided) and golden hair bouncing. It was disgusting, honestly. 

Erik did eventually get out of the gondola, only to not focus on his lessons with Christine, until the woman actually voiced her concerns.

"Monsieur, are you feeling alright? Your mind seems far away-"

"You're friends with Raoul de Chagny, are you not?" Erik interjected, his eyes seemingly gleaming desperately.

"The vicomte? Yes, I'd say we're companions, why would that-" this time the soprano cut off herself, the gears in her mind dragging against each other until she game to a shocking conclusion. "Are your thoughts focused on Raoul? Has he done something wrong?"

 

"Oh, what does he do wrong!?" Erik groaned, allowing his emotions to slip in front of his student. "You already know of my little fancy for the viscount, don't act so surprised." He huffed, tapping his foot in irritation. "It's getting the best of me! I don't know what to do!"

 

"What about courting him?" Christine suggested, a smile making its way across her face.

 

"No! Why would I do something so normal- he deserves something extravagant, like...," the word eluded him.

"A secret admirer?" His student filled in the gap.

"Yes! Exactly!" It was rare Erik got this excited over doing something not for his own personal gain, which was still not true as he'd gain the comely male. "Now if you don't mind, I'm cutting the lesson short today!" He called to Christine, who looked after the usually grumpy and stoic male in curiosity.

"Where are you going?"

"To purchase 21 white roses." Erik answered as if it was obvious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Erik's ooc, which I'll try not to do as much, but I always think of him as some pining dork bc I mean come on he became an angel for a woman before, he doesn't know how to flirt.
> 
> P.S: Raoul's p.o.v will be the next two chapters 
> 
> P.P.S: Raoul's also kinda gay


	3. 21 white roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raoul will need a lot of desk space for Erik's gifts smh.

Raoul wasn't one to get gifts from the public or have admirers. The closest to that was when Carlotta, as selfish as she was, offered herself for his birthday, which Raoul kindly declined.

It was more like Phillipe to get a gift from an admirer. Specifically Mademoiselle Margaux Dubois. She was a local tailor who'd caught his brother's fancy. Surprising, since Phillipe appeared to be attracted to the more vivacious and.....noble type. But there they were, being a couple. However, now the gift was for him. A very fanciful one at that. An old maid seemed very frazzled when bringing in a giant bouquet of about 21 white roses, all of which tied together with a black and silver ribbon.

"Monsieur de Chagny? It appears," she paused to breathe as she handed the flowers over to him, "that you've got a secret admirer. A rather enthusiastic one at that. They've put a letter in there. Perhaps you can read it while I find a vase?" The woman hummed before going back downstairs.

Raoul rose an eyebrow, plucking the piece of paper from the bunch, placing the flowers on his desk as he skimmed over the letter.

' _Dear Vicomte de Chagny,_

_If you are reading this, it appears that you've gotten my token of affection. I do hope you're not allergic to roses, as this would make the gift rather dismal. Now, you may wonder who exactly I am. That's a mystery for you to solve, mon beau. Though, I'll be as kind to give you a few hints. I'm a devil who hides behind an angel's mask, I'm in charge of my bosses, and I'm not one to be taken likely. That is all I shall say to you. Be prepared to accept a gift a day, young one._

_Your Secret Admirer.'_

Raoul paused and reread it, thoroughly stumped as to who exactly as this person. 'Mon beau? I'm hardly that attractive,' he sniffed to himself, shaking his head as he smiled at the letter.

 

<3

"Young one?" Phillipe echoed, staring at the letter. "They must obviously be an elder of yours. Raoul, if you go frolicking with a woman in her eighties, I swear-"

Raoul scoffed, rolling his eyes at the older male. "Please, that's ridiculous! They gave me hints and I doubt an elderly woman can manage such a neat and gorgeous scrawl, Phillipe." Which was true. The letter had been written in a lovely cursive font with something that didn't exactly look like ink from a pen specifically. "Did they actually go through the trouble of using a quill? Goodness, they must really like you." Phillipe voiced his thoughts, squinting at the letter before handing it back off to Raoul. "Well, petit frère, you go and play detective with your friend, that Daaé woman. I'm off to visit someone."

"Stop being secretive, I know your off to lay with Mademoiselle Margaux. How vulgar of you, Phillipe, she's ten years your junior." He snorted, ducking his brother's swing.

"She's _seven_ years younger than me, which makes her 34 years old to my 41 years. Hold your tongue before I remove it. Then you won't be as suave and silver tongued with your admirer." Phillipe huffed, grabbing his coat as he bid his adieu.

Raoul chuckled and went back to re-reading the letter. "Well, my devil with an angel's mask, I'll discover who you are eventually." He sighed, shaking his head as a quirked up his lips up into a half-smile and set it in his desk drawer.

Little did our viscount know, he'd have many more to put in that small little drawer and would end up buying a large wooden chest for his trinkets and letters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah, Phillipe's lover is an oc (duh). Totally didn't go into effort to make the her a character (*sweats nervously*)
> 
> And yeah, I think Raoul and Phillipe would have a little sibling rivalry, after all they're a 20 year age difference bruh

**Author's Note:**

> This shall be a whirlwind of gay, so strap in your here for a bumpy ride


End file.
